


JARVIS Plots with Captain America (But Only Because They Care)

by celtic7irish



Series: Avengers and AIs [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-23 00:29:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2527262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celtic7irish/pseuds/celtic7irish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For being a genius, it took Tony an embarrassingly long time to catch on to what was happening between Captain America and his AI.  It started simply enough.  Tony would look up from whatever he’d been working on to find a plate with a sandwich and a glass of soda sitting near him, just far enough out of reach that he didn’t knock it over on accident, but close enough that he knew it was for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	JARVIS Plots with Captain America (But Only Because They Care)

For being a genius, it took Tony an embarrassingly long time to catch on to what was happening between Captain America and his AI. Both JARVIS and Steve were being remarkably discreet in their dealings with each other, which mostly seemed to revolve around him.

 

After the fiasco with the Hydra-infested SHIELD, Tony had opened up the Avengers Tower to the whole team. It wasn’t like any of them had anywhere else to go. Even Natasha had accepted a floor here, despite the fact that she was rarely in New York. Then again, neither were Clint or Steve, usually. The super soldier tended to come around in between hunts for his missing friend, Bucky, using JARVIS to help track down leads. Tony didn’t begrudge him the use of his AI, and it seemed to make JARVIS happy to have somebody other than Tony to be useful to.

 

It started simply enough. Tony would look up from whatever he’d been working on to find a plate with a sandwich and a glass of soda sitting near him, just far enough out of reach that he didn’t knock it over on accident, but close enough that he knew it was for him. The first time it had happened, he’d just blinked, shrugged, and eaten the food gratefully after realizing that he was, indeed, hungry. Maybe Pepper or Bruce had been by, since only those two had the codes to his personal lab. That he hadn’t noticed wasn’t surprising; anybody who could come in here was somebody he trusted with his life, and therefore belonged here, just like Dummy and You and Butterfingers and the Iron Man suits.

 

The food didn’t appear there for every meal, or even once a day. Rather, it just seemed to mysteriously appear whenever Tony went on one of his benders, inventing without bothering to sleep or eat anything that wasn’t coffee until he ran himself ragged and collapsed on the cot that he had set up in the back of the lab. When he asked JARVIS about it, the AI simply told him that whoever was bringing the food had an authorization code. Since JARVIS had only passive scanning in the lab unless spoken to directly, it didn’t raise any suspicion. The food was always delicious, and Tony hadn’t gotten sick or died yet, so it continued to show up, and he continued to eat it.

 

It was months after the food started showing up that Tony got another surprise. He had drifted off in the lab, his head cushioned on his arms at one of the worktables, schematics for a new suit of armor hovering above him. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but JARVIS was running simulations, so there wasn’t much he could do until those were done and he could tinker with whatever needed to be adjusted. He had only meant to close his eyes and rest for a few moments, but the next thing he knew, JARVIS was buzzing discretely, letting him know that the simulations were complete.

 

Tony sat up, wincing as he worked the kinks out of his neck and shoulders. A blanket slipped off of his shoulders and dropped to the floor. Tony just stared blankly at it for a moment, then turned to look at the bot that was hovering nearby, waiting for orders. “Dummy, did you do this?” he demanded.

 

Dummy waggled his clawed appendage back and forth, denying having put the blanket on him, and Tony frowned. Pepper used to do it, on occasion, but she was out of town at the moment, visiting another one of Stark Industries’ offices in Colorado. “Hmm…must’ve been Bruce,” he murmured, shrugging as he balled up the blanket and tossed it onto the cot. Dummy rolled over and made a clumsy, failed attempt to fold it. Tony just rolled his eyes. “You need at least two hands, Dummy,” he told the bot, who paused, then trundled over to this brothers for help, dragging the blanket with him and occasionally running over it with his treads. Tony left them to it, turning back to his schematics and starting on the corrections, pushing it back out of his mind. He had more important things to focus on.

 

He finally started to get an inkling that JARVIS might have made a new friend after their next battle, whereupon the villain of the week had thrown a car into Tony, slamming him to the pavement beneath the crushed metal. Hulk had quickly snatched the car off of him, and proceeded to use it to smash the bad guy, but the damage had been done. Bruises, cuts, and at least three cracked ribs, possibly four. Not to mention that his ankle was busted up where the metal of his armor had cut into it, leaving a jagged, deep wound.

 

Tony, being who he was, hadn’t bothered with the debriefing or a visit to SHIELD’s Medical department. Ever since the file dump, Tony trusted SHIELD doctors even less than he had before, which he wouldn’t have thought possible until it happened. Instead, he had flown directly back to the Tower, hobbling through the removal of his armor and wincing as he made his way to the bathroom in his suite, taking a long, hot shower, his bad leg lifted a bit awkwardly as he tried to keep pressure off of it while still using it for balance. He managed not to fall and break anything, much to his relief.

 

When he exited the bathroom, JARVIS informed him that Bruce was expecting him in the Tower’s Medical wing. Tony grimaced, not really wanting to see their resident doctor, but knowing that he should probably have his leg looked at, if nothing else. Walking carefully so as to not betray the fact that his ribs were busted up, too, Tony made his way to the elevator and down seven floors to the Medical Wing.

 

Bruce took one look at him and rolled his eyes. “Sit down, Tony, and show me your leg. Then we’ll get your ribs bandaged. Nothing’s broken in there, right?” he demanded. Tony just blinked at him for a moment, caught off guard.

 

Then he frowned. “Wait a minute,” he protested, even as he lifted his leg for Bruce to prod at before bandaging. “Who said anything about my ribs? I’m fine. Got crushed under a car, but the Big Guy took care of that pretty damn fast.”

 

Bruce just gave him a look, and Tony shut his mouth, trying not to pull away from the other man. “He said you’d try to hide it,” Bruce muttered instead, turning his attention back to Tony’s ankle. “How many other injuries have you hidden from me?” he asked next.

 

Tony winced; he really didn’t want to get into that conversation. He’d hidden everything from fractured bones to concussions to bad sprains in the time since the Avengers Initiative had come together. Bruce’s lips pursed together tightly. “I see,” was all he said, and Tony flushed with guilt, remaining still as Bruce tested his ribs – four of them were cracked – and bandaged his abdomen before handing him a bottle of painkillers and sending him on his way.

 

Back in the elevator, Tony allowed his exhaustion to show, slumping against the back wall. “JARVIS, take me to my lab,” he mumbled.

 

 _“I am sorry, sir,”_ JARVIS apologized, _“but Protocol Omega-Phi-zero-six-six-two has been activated. I’m afraid I cannot allow you into the lab at this time.”_

Tony glared angrily at the elevator doors. “Who the fuck tattled to Pepper?” he demanded. She was the only one allowed to lock him out of his own lab, and only if it was a dire emergency. Tony had a sliced up ankle and a couple of cracked ribs. He wasn’t _dying_.

 

 _“My apologies, sir,”_ JARVIS replied instead. _“I am unaware of any calls being made to Miss Potts.”_ That didn’t mean much, actually. Any of the Avengers, or even SHIELD, could have contacted Pepper via means that JARVIS didn’t normally track. Like a normal phone. Or she could’ve seen the fight on the news and realized that he was probably injured and hiding it. She could have called in the order herself.

 

With a snarl, he changed his order. “Fine, take me to the garage.” Just because he couldn’t get into his lab for the next twenty-four hours didn’t mean that he had to go to his room and ‘get some rest’.

 

 _“Sir, I must advise against this course of action,”_ JARVIS replied unnecessarily, even as the lift started moving.

 

Tony just scowled. “Mute, JARVIS.” The AI went immediately silent, though the lights in the elevator flashed brightly once with JARVIS’s displeasure, making Tony wince at the stabbing pain. Maybe he had a mild concussion, too?

 

The elevator seemed to take an interminably long time to reach the garage, and Tony muttered dire threats under his breath. His AI was thwarting him on purpose, he was sure of it. Still, he couldn’t see what this useless act of rebellion gained either of them, so he patiently waited JARVIS out.

 

At last, the elevator arrived on the garage level, the doors sliding open with a quiet hiss. Tony stepped out and headed for his row of personal cars. He wanted to get out for a while, cool his head, not disappear off the grid. Deciding that the Jaguar XKR Cabriolet would do for his purposes, Tony grabbed the keys out of the key box and hopped over the door, dropping into the seat with a wince as his ribs and ankle protested the abuse. He maybe should have thought that through a bit more.

 

As he turned the ignition, the car purring to life under him, another body hopped into the passenger seat. Tony turned to stare disbelievingly at the blonde man who was now sitting in his car as if he had every right, as if he _belonged_ there.

 

Steve Rogers arched an eyebrow at him. “Well?” he asked, in that rich timber of his, “Are you planning on going anywhere? Or did you just want to sit here and waste fuel?” His tone was definitely amused as he eyed Tony, who just blinked back at him.

 

“What are you doing here, Rogers?” he demanded at last, the words not nearly as harsh as he had intended them to be. He was too tired to deal with the Captain’s Holier-Than-Thou attitude.

 

Without waiting for an answer, he opened the door, preparing to climb out of the car, leaving it running. A large hand gripped him by the elbow, and he turned back to glare at the other man coldly. “Let go,” he growled.

 

Steve nodded. “I will,” he promised. “After you sit back down.” His blue eyes were perfectly serious as he met Tony’s eyes straight on. Tony debated being stubborn and refusing, but he was tired, he was hurting, and he couldn’t break the Super Soldier’s grip on a good day, never mind today. Grumbling, he sat back down, keeping turning to face forward, pointedly ignoring the man next to him.

 

Steve sighed, then muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “What was I expecting?” Reaching back to buckle his seat belt, he prompted, “Well? Weren’t you going somewhere?”

 

Tony glanced at him through narrowed eyes, his jaw tightening briefly, but ultimately decided it wasn’t worth the battle. Stomping on the pedal, Tony peeled out of the garage with squealing tires. Steve didn’t say a word, though his white-knuckled grip on the edge of the door betrayed his anxiety. Maybe he was trying not to bite his tongue, Tony thought vindictively, his sour mood making him more unreasonable than normal.

 

Barely sparing his passenger a glance, his eyes focused on the road in front of him, Tony warned, “Don’t you dare bust up my car, Rogers.” New York traffic quickly forced him to slow down, and he smoothly shifted gears, sliding in between cars with the ease of long practice. He knew exactly where he was going, and there was no hurry, so he was content to ignore his uninvited guest for the twenty-five minutes it took him to arrive at his destination.

 

Steve had released his death grip on Tony’s car once the genius had slowed to normal speeds, and now he gazed at the building in front of them skeptically. “A donut shop?” he asked, obviously confused. “We passed by a few of them on the way.” Continuing to pretend the other man wasn’t there, Tony climbed out of the car and strolled up the short walkway. To his credit, Steve just climbed out and followed him into the shop, keeping the rest of his opinions to himself.

 

A perky brunette with her hair in a high ponytail greeted Tony as the two men walked into the cool interior of the donut shop. “Mr. Stark!” she smiled at the genius, who turned on his hundred-watt charm as he smiled back. “The usual?”

 

Tony carefully didn’t look at the man next to him as he requested, “Double it, Bridgette,” pouring on the charm. Bridgette just grinned back at him, completely unimpressed with his pseudo-flirting. She was married, anyhow, and Tony had no interest in married women.

 

“Sure thing, Mr. Stark!” she chirped, turning away to get a box and fill it with donuts. Tony moved over to a table in the corner of the shop with easy familiarity and settled in, keeping an eye on the door and windows. This was the same place where Natasha had stabbed him in the neck with a needle to treat the symptoms of his Palladium poisoning.

 

Steve settled in the seat across from him, watching him speculatively. “Do you come here often, Tony?” he asked at last, breaking the almost-pleasant silence. Tony shrugged, which wasn’t really an answer, and Steve sighed, his head bowing towards the table for a moment, his hands clasped together in front of him. “Look, Tony, I know we sort of got off on the wrong foot, but I’m trying to help here. I really am. I don’t know what you want from me.”

 

Tony frowned at the man sitting across from him. “What do I want?” he asked. “I don’t want anything from you, Rogers.” Then he thought back to the rest of Steve’s spilled confession. “And what do you mean by ‘trying to help’? Because as far as I can tell, you haven’t done jack-shit.”

 

Steve blinked at him in stunned disbelief, and Tony clamped his mouth shut, staring back at him with wide eyes. He had…obviously missed something, somewhere.

 

Bridgette chose that moment to drop two boxes of donuts on the table between them before turning away and greeting her next guest. The moment was broken, and the next thing Tony knew, Steve was laughing. It was loud, unrefined, and raucous, and drew all eyes in the small shop. Tony just waited him out, completely confused, until Steve’s laughter died into low chuckles.

 

Grabbing up the donut boxes and shoving them at Steve to carry, Tony headed for the doors, shrugging at Bridgette on the way out. She grinned at him and gave him two thumbs up, and Tony rolled his eyes, making her giggle.

 

Once they were both seated in the car, Steve wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, Tony turned the engine and left the lot. He waited until they were on the road before he spoke. “Okay, mind telling me what was so funny?” he demanded grouchily.

 

Steve grinned. “Eight months, Tony,” he answered, which wasn’t really an answer at all. Tony glanced over at him, and Steve sighed, settling back in his seat, the boxes of donuts held in his lap. “You’ve never noticed me wandering around your lab?” he asked. “Not even once?”

 

Tony furrowed his brow. “Noooo,” he drawled out. “Why would I? You don’t have access.” He paused, a vague memory tickling at the corner of his mind. “Do you?”

 

Steve shrugged. “Yeah, you gave me override access about nine months ago. Admittedly, you were a bit…wasted at the time, but you never rescinded the orders.”

 

Tony grumbled under his breath. He’d have to check and see what other orders he might have given JARVIS regarding the Avengers when he was drunk off his ass. For all he knew, he’d given overrides to everybody, and keyed Black Widow into one of his suits.

 

Steve was facing forward now as he spoke, his eyes not focused on what was in front of him. “One day, I noticed that I hadn’t seen you for about six days. I hadn’t thought anything of it previously, because I know that you often lock yourself in your lab, and that you avoid the gym like the plague.” A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “But then I remembered that Bruce was out of town, and wasn’t there to feed you or drag you out of the lab.” He shrugged. “So I asked JARVIS how you were doing.”

 

Tony only vaguely remembered that time. It had been shortly after the Battle of New York, and the insomnia more often than not resulted in Tony spending long hours down in the lab, streamlining coffee and working on project after project in an attempt to either stay awake or exhaust himself to the point of dreamless collapse. He hadn’t even bothered with hygiene beyond using the lab sink to give himself a quick scrub now and again. He couldn’t remember, now, how long he had been down there, but he had finally collapsed at some point, and when he had awoken, more than ten hours had passed and he was on his cot, a blanket set over him and pillows beneath his head, his bots hovering worriedly around him.

 

At the time, he had just thought that maybe he hadn’t remembered making to the cot, but now that he thought about it, even if he had managed to drag himself over to the cot, he wouldn’t have removed his shoes or grabbed a blanket.

 

He narrowed his eyes. “You picked me up and tucked me into bed,” he stated flatly. Steve nodded, his eyes earnest. “And you didn’t think that maybe I didn’t want any help?” he snapped. Not that waking up bent over the worktable or collapsed on the hard floor would have helped anything at all, but it was the principle of the thing, dammit.

 

Steve frowned uncomfortably. “I wasn’t sure,” he admitted. “But when I started bringing down food, you ate it, and never once protested, that I was aware of.” He tilted his head considering. “Unless, of course, you complained but ordered JARVIS not to say anything,” he amended. “And you pretty much just ignored it when I was in the lab, so I figured you didn’t mind.”

 

His tone was subdued, but Tony was too busy thinking as things started sliding into place to notice. The food, even when neither Pepper nor Bruce were in the building. The blankets settled over him when he fell asleep at the lab tables. The fact that JARVIS never side-stepped any direct queries about who had been in the lab when he’d been zoned out. The very worrying fact that Tony had apparently, at some point, accepted that having _Captain America_ in his personal space was perfectly safe, no different from having Bruce or Pepper there.

 

Stopped at a traffic light, Tony pressed his forehead against the back of his hands on his steering well, completely mortified. How could things have changed so much without him ever noticing?

 

A moment later, a donut was being held under his nose in offering, waggling tantalizingly. With a surprised laugh, Tony sat up, snagging the donut and taking a large bite as the car started moving again. What the hell, why not? Steve had apparently been feeding him for months already.

 

Let JARVIS and Steve plot behind his back. After all, he was pretty sure they only did it because they cared.

 

And that? Yeah, that was something Tony could live with. With one exception.

 

“Steve?” he lilted, waiting until Steve hummed in acknowledgment before continuing. “No more carrying me to bed, all right?”

 

The bright smile and startled laugh was worth the momentary embarrassment. Steve nodded.

 

“Deal.”


End file.
